The 12 days of Voldemort's birthday party
by FlashOutOfTheSky
Summary: Basically this story is just a bunch of random drabbles I wrote, starting from 12 and going down to 1. All are pretty random, and all do not use the main characters. Flames accepted so I can toast waffles!


**A/N**

**F:I hope you like it! Also I stole Draco!**

***APPLAUSE***

**D:What were am I? Who are you? I want to go back to Pigfarts!**

**F:Ohhh, hush your whining. I also stole you so you could do the disclaimer!**

**D:Why me?**

**F:Because i'll give you a waffle?**

**D:Oh, OK then! Flashy here doesn't own me or the amazing Harry Potter series (which is where I'm originated from). Where's my waffle?**

**F:Ehh, I was just kidding. All of these waffles are for me, myself. and I!**

**D:But that's more evil than the Dark lord!**

**F:Exactly! MWAHAHAHAHA!**

**F: I present you: ****THE 12 DAYS OF VOLDEMORT'S BIRTHDAY PARTY**

* * *

**Twelve crates of non-virgin butterbeer,**

"Harry, Ron, look at what I found!" cried Seamus Finnigan holding five crates of some liquidy substance. Dean Thomas stood next to him, holding seven crates of the same material, twitching in agitation.

"What is it, guys? Ron and I are signing all of my-I mean our-fan letters."

"It's BUTTERBEER, but not just any type of butterbeer. It's non-virgin!" crowed Seamus.

"Meaning..." Ron waited for Seamus to pull himself together and tell him what "non-virgin" meant. Sometimes he was completely embarrassed by not know muggle slang.

"Meaning it's alcoholic!" answered Harry, ecstatic with thoughts of getting drunk.

Ron replied with a slow, "Ohhhhhhh."

"OK, so there are twelve crates and four of us. If we want to split it evenly, we all get three crates; each containing four half-liter bottles." Seamus calculated, counting off of his fingers to appear more intelligent. Dean just stared at his friend, wondering how he could count that quickly with no calculator in sight.

"Where'd ya nick it from?" Ron asked. He was completely befuddled by why Fred and George never stole any.

"That's for you to know and us to never find out," winked Dean, getting over his dilemma.

"Isn't that saying supposed to be the other way 'round? And by the way, that saying is so cliché." Seamus muttered aloud.

"Who cares? Let's start drinking this butterbeer." Harry sashayed over to the crates, his fan mail forgotten. He quickly pushed the crates in even piles and sat next to one.

The rest understood his meaning and walked over to their respected areas.

"THREE, TWO, ONE! GO!" Dean screeched like a harpy and quickly chugged a bottle. The others followed his lead.

***TWENTY MINUTES LATER***

"I ca-a-n't s-st-sto-op v-vo-omm-mit-ting," stuttered Dean, cradling a huge grey bucket full of puke.

"Ugh. I hate cramps!" Ron complained, holding his stomach while sitting on his bed, earning him questioning glances about his gender. "I don't mean THAT TYPE of cramps!"

"MOMMY, MAKE IT STOP!" cried Seamus in agonizing pain.

"WHERE'S THE BUTTERBEER?" slurred Harry, carrying an empty bottle of a non-virgin butterbeer.

**Eleven students spelling,**

They practiced over again. And again. And again. They knew that they had to save Hogwarts from the wrath of the Dark Lord. So they practiced. He was coming soon, they sensed. They tried to prepare themselves and each other as much as possible. Their ages ranging from 11 to 17. Some too young to die. Yet, they still practiced. They muttered incoherent words, trying to make their own spells, murmuring words of languages lost to the muggle world. "Alohamora", "Wen Gardium Leviosa", "Expelliarmus", and much more spells were made. "Spelling Students", they all mused. A correct name for their new group.

**Ten people chasing Hermione Granger,**

"Hermione, look at me!" Ron said.

"No! Look at meeee!" insisted Harry

"I know you want me," smirked Draco.

"Don't pay attention to those idiots." Snape interrupted.

"Her-mi-o-ninny," Viktor Krum smiled lustily.

In a monotone voice, Dumbledore said, "It's me you want."

"Hermione, over here!" Ginny's voice.

"Don't listen to them, Hermione, you're mine." complained Seamus Finnigan.

"Hermione, I'm right here!" Dean Thomas acknowledged.

"HERMIONE, run away with me. I'm obviously the prettiest!" Cho Chang flipped her hair.

Hermione woke up startled. All of the voices, except for Ron's, were equally disturbing. If only...

**Nine screeching owls,**

She was in the owlery, waiting for a letter to come. A single letter. It didn't matter who wrote it or what it contained. She just wanted a letter.

She came there day after day, waiting for someone to write to her. She sat on the giant windowsill that overlooked the lake, Hagrid's hut, the Forbidden Forest, and part of the greenhouses, anticipating an owl carrying a letter for her. She dreamt up fantasies and magical ways for her to interpret the letter she may be given. A giant, enormous, majestic bird would gracefully soar toward her and deposit a parchment rolled up with twine. The letter would be written in an exquisite ink with a delicate, loopy lettering. She would then revel in joys and listen to Daughtry's Life After You. Dancing, with jubilance.

A few days later, she finally received the desired letter. The letter read:  
Luna, please come. We need you help right away!

It was short and simple, written quickly in a messy scrawl. The letter was caried by a disheveled barn owl.

She smiled to herself; it was good enough.

**Eight broomsticks flying,**

A match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was in full play. 14 players in all, six down. Slytherin had two players out, one chaser and a beater, while Gryffindor had four players unable to participate, a beater, the keeper, and two chasers. The Gryffindor seeker knew it was all up to her if she wanted her team to win. She quickly scanned the arena, her eyes flitting from one spot to next. There! She spotted the golden snitch that needed to be captured. She slowly made her way to the general area, trying not to attract attention to herself. She trained her eye on the ball to make sure her prize didn't get away. Closer. Closer. Still too far away. Out of the corner of her eye she spots the Slytherin seeker making way toward the snitch, her golden moment gone! Yet, she doesn't give up. She races her way to the snitch, pushing players on both teams out of her way. Her nimble fingers close in on the minuscule object just as she felt herself get knocked over. She fell off of her broom. Warily, she stood up from the ungraceful tumble she endured. She opened her eyes oh so slowly, afraid of whether or not her prize was in her hand. VICTORY! Her mind exploded as the unimaginable happened. Her first game as a watcher, participant, and player, and she won. She shrieked a winning scream in jubilance and pure bliss. Then, she saw the other seeker. He was alone, walking away from the field, head hung low. She quickly walked over and intertwined her hand with his and smiled. He smiled back and thought, "My first friend."

**Seven horcruxes,**

Tom Riddle, now Voldemort, stared at the book furiously. Unable to control his anger, he throws the book across the Quidditch field. He doesn't want to have a horcrux, yet he knows that he has to, to achieve his dream of being the greatest wizard if all time. He quickly takes off of the stands and rushes over to the fallen book. Quickly, he lifts it to his chests and draws a shaky sigh. He walked over to the Chamber of Secrets while cleverly ignoring other students, wondering if this was a bad idea or not.

**Six different emotions on Snape,**

Severus Snape actually feeling emotions:

He sings Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber whenever he hears Lily Evans' name mentioned. He sulks and grumbles when he's blamed for harassing little first years. He becomes uncontrollably angry whenever he is proved wrong or is presented as a fool. He acts gay when around Dumbledore. He cries as if he's watching the Titanic when someone says Lily Evans' name. He becomes drunk and blurts out all of his feelings and emotions to Dobby the house-elf when he's in a "mood."

**Five memorable DADA teachers,**

Out of all the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers that taught at Hogwarts, five of them were the most memorable.

There was Professor Quirrel, the man who had the face of the Dark Lord behind his head. Now everyone knew why he stuttered and always watched a movie sideways.

Next came Gilderoy Lockhart. Everyone except for the muggle-born witches and wizards knew his name. He was tall (not really, midget much?), blonde (the kind that looks like a sickly shade of yellow), dangerous and cunning (yeah right, he lied about everything he did in his books. He didn't even help Harry and me defeat the Basilisks in our second year!), and-overall-amazing (he can't even stop pixies). This teacher was commented on by Ronald Weasley.

The third was Professor Lupin, AKA Moony by his fellow marauders. He's a werewolf-the real kind, not some Jacob wannabe. This teacher happens to be Harry Potter's favorite so you better like him.

Then came Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Well, actually it was Barty Crouch Jr. so we won't go into depth with this one.

And finally, the fifth most memorable lady was none other than the cat lady who has an obsession with pink! Everyone, and I mean everyone, hates her stinky, slimy guts. Let's just say she doesn't like the Weasleys that much due to Fred and George.

**Four Hogwart houses,**

Godric Gryffindor looked over the castle he and his magical comrades built: Helga was helping to grow ivy and plants to anchor the stone for generations and generations to come; Rowena was creating a boundary that didn't allow mortals to see through; Salazar was somewhere in the castle fixing some last minute detail that would help protect the students and teachers when times were tough. Gryffindor smiled to himself. Of course Salazar came back even though he preferred pure bloods; he knew he would.

"My dear fellow witches and wizard. Today I've decided that we should make four Hogwart houses. For the loyal, Hufflepuff. For the intelligent, Ravenclaw. For the ambitious, Slytherin. For the brave and courageous, Gryffindor. We now have all four houses! Let's feast on Willy Wonka's incredible Scrumptious Delicioumpus!"

All four of them cheered with an exaggerated amount of enthusiasm and hopped on their broom sticks to fly toward Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

**A three-headed dog,**

The golden trio. They were all grown-up. They all had families, jobs, but they had to visit a certain someone again. A certain someone that helped them in their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That certain someone was important to their success. They cautiously opened the door and peeked inside. Inside, was a three-headed dog, lying on its side, over a padlocked door.

"Hey, slobber-face," Ron smirked.

"Don't pay attention to him, Fluffy. We still love you even if you tend to have a drool problem." smiled Hermione.

**Two arch nemesis',**

They faced each other, in an everlasting duel. The mahogany clock that was thrusted unceremoniously into a corner rang out thrice. It was the midnight hour. It also signaled the duel to begin. They both raised their wands into formal positions, glaring and sneering at each other, waiting for the other to begin. They continued their stare down until, fifteen minutes later, Ron and Crabbe asked both of them why they weren't saying any spells in a magical flourish. Confused, both of them wrinkled their nose and tilted their head questioningly.

"You're supposed to aim spells at your opponent and try to kill them! Dumbledore's freaking beard! You both don't know how to duel! I'm outtie!" Neville left, stomping his feet and kicking dust.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other and at their small crowd, approximately four people.

"Wanna call it a draw and eat some chocolate frogs?"

"Ehh, sure. Why not? Butterbeer's on you though."

**And one lightening-shaped scar on a freak!**

He stared at himself in the mirror, at his forehead to be specific. He had always hated that scar. That stupid lightening-shaped scar. It started this whole mess and ended it. In the mirror, he saw the years swim by as his face changed; it grew smaller and more childish. He remembered everything that has happened to him, all the memories of deaths, birthdays, holidays, reunions, battles and much more. He then realized that he didn't want to forget. All of it was important, every single detail of his life, ever since Voldemort came knocking on his doorstep.

"Sir, can you remove your glasses and lay on the bench?"

Harry was stirred awake from his daze. What was he doing here? What was the point? He relived memories of his life in a nanosecond and became overwhelmed.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FREAK! HOLY VOLDEMOT'S BUTTHOLE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M PROUD TO BE FREAK OF NATURE! FREAK OF NATURE CALL! WOOT! WOOT!"

Out of nowhere appeared Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, Luna, Neville, Draco, and many others, all were doing the freak of nature call.

**A/N**

**REVEIEWWWWW! I'LL GIVE YOU ONE OF MY WAFFLES!**


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